


Redefining Boundaries, or The Seduction of Clark Kent

by viceroy



Category: DCU, Superboy (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Barebacking, Clone Sex, Developing Relationship, Dom!Tim, Dom/sub, Incest, Light BDSM, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Parent/Child Incest, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Superpower Sex, Voyeurism, sub!Kon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceroy/pseuds/viceroy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After having his powers leeched off by Parasite, Kon goes to Metropolis to recover. While there, Kon learns some new things about Lois and Clark, and what exactly he and Tim are to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redefining Boundaries, or The Seduction of Clark Kent

“This _sucks_!” The words echo faintly in the quiet of Clark and Lois’ apartment and Kon groans on Clark’s couch, dejected. School, thankfully, has been out for a few weeks. Normally this is code for ‘chores and fun with the Titans’ which, frankly, Kon doesn’t mind as much as he lets on to Uncle Jon and Aunt Martha. He’d be over at the tower now if it was his choice, but a brush with an unusually squirrelly Parasite left him with slowly returning powers and a standing bench from both Cassie _and_ Tim until he was back at one hundred percent again.

That was almost a week ago, and while his powers were slowly but surely returning, his moping about had apparently tested even the infinite patience of his guardians, who’d foisted him off on Clark rather than have to deal with his whining. Which, _rude_ , but Metropolis was always more interesting than Kansas. He had fun with Lois and Clark whenever they had the time to hang out with him, and Clark almost never turned down an offer of help when his plate was almost always full.

This is why Kon’s particularly pissed today. He could be outside right now, taking down some of the dumber jerkbags that call Metropolis home, but Clark turned out to be of the same mind as Tim and Cassie. He couldn’t even get some PR and save a cat from a stupid tree. No heroics, no powers until Clark himself could see how his powers were returning.

Kon tried to take the restrictions in stride, but this isn’t Kent Farm where there’s always something to do, superpowers or no. He has the house spotless within an hour every morning, even when going slow. Bart’s always a welcome distraction, but even with his attention span getting better these days, if there isn’t much you can do for him or _with_ him, he loses interest pretty quickly, and Kon just never had the interest in museums and libraries and stuff that Bart’s developed and Tim’s always had a knack for. Apparently there’s even only so much syndicated Wendy one can take before even Kon gets tired of it.

Ugh, he doesn’t even have a _game system_ here. How can one person be so _boring_?

It doesn’t help that Kon and Lois are kind-of-sort-of fighting right now. He knows he should apologize, but Kon’s never really had to be _Conner_ in Metropolis. He doesn’t know what to do with himself here now that punching things and saving other things isn’t really on the table, and apparently Lois’ tolerance for Kon’s complaints only hold up for three nights before she’s yelling at Conner to just take a walk and be a normal kid for a few hours if he’s really that bored. She’s gone the next day, with a tired Clark explaining she’s covering some huge political thing in Geneva about Who Freaking Cares and that she’ll be gone for a few days.

Kon actually does feel bad about that one. He sends her an appropriately apologetic image macro with an equally penitent-looking cute animal and the promise to wash her car or something. He already misses her, though. Clark can be fun, yeah, but he’s always caught in that state between cool older brother and concerned parental figure which is just weird because it’s _Clark_. Lois could at least humor him. Lois has more than earned her spot as family in Kon’s eyes, but it’s in the same way a close friend is family. You appreciate each other and would do anything for them, but there’s no weird hierarchy to try and fumble around. They can talk frankly to each other. Any attempt with Clark usually ends up as being awkward with one or both of them not being able to look at the other in the end.

So yeah, it’s been quiet. Clark’s too busy with his job and with Superman to try any attempts at relieving his boredom, and all of his suggestions leave a weird taste in his mouth. _Why don’t we go out and play catch? Oh, there’s a ball game we can catch. You like baseball, right?_ And Kon appreciates the offers, but the way Clark goes on about it, hopeful and mildly clueless makes it feel less like hanging out and more like _bonding_. 

He tried the baseball thing, and admittedly it was more fun than he thought it’d be, but any time things seemed to settle into a natural rhythm, Clark would eventually screw it all up by becoming too eager about whatever Kon was interested in. It was sweet of him, Kon guessed, but it felt too much like what he imagines a parent trying to buy their kids’ love would do.

Kon sighs and thinks about calling Tim so the weirdo could empathize with him and maybe talk him out of just going out and doing what Clark told him not to but lets out another self-pitying noise when he remembers Tim’s out in San Francisco right now, probably fighting whoever escaped from Alcatraz this week. He rolls on the couch, trying to find that sweet spot where he could maybe nap or something but instead falls over the side of the couch.

“Ow! Son of a freaking _bitch!_ ” Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much. His Tactile Telekinesis returned the day before and with it the majority of his invulnerability. Complaining just feels better. Still, he can tell he conked his head more than he should have if his TTK was at its best, because even though there isn’t that much pain behind the blow, there’s a small throbbing behind his eyes. Is this a concussion? It doesn’t feel like a concussion, but those don’t always necessarily feel the same.

He gets up, rubbing the spot where he face planted with a grumble. When he opens his eyes, things are a bit blurry and jumping back and forth in focus. Great. He hopes it goes away by the time Clark gets home. Explaining that he suffered a sort-of serious head injury from falling _off a couch_ isn’t really what he wants to do today.

He rubs his eyes again and nearly jumps when he realizes he’s _looking through the freaking table_. Is that…? Kon focuses, and the table becomes solid. Another test of focus causes it to become translucent again. The throbbing in his head dissipates and Kon whoops triumphantly, jumping into the air and landing slowly, buffeted by his comparatively weak TTK. “Hell yeah!”

Just for the hell of it, Kon sweeps his eyes around the apartment, randomly slipping in and out of his X-Ray vision, too excited that he’s closer to recovery to really care about things like privacy. Boredom starts to set in not too much longer, though, and Kon’s just about ready to give up the ghost and maybe actually follow Lois and Clark’s suggestion and just maybe head out like a regular person for a while.

That changes quickly, though, when Kon’s eyes land on a box in Clark’s closet.

No, that’s inaccurate. It’s _in the wall_ in Clark’s closet and. That’s a little weird and a lot interesting, especially to a bored teenager. Kon snickers at the possibility of what’s inside the box.

-

“This is why we don’t snoop, Conner.” Tim’s voice isn’t exactly sympathetic. Kon shoots daggers at the image of Tim, who only snickers in reply. Tim’s appearance is carefully tailored to look like a regular kid, but Kon isn’t stupid. He’s at the tower right now with the camera pointed at a part that specifically has been prepared to look like his room back in Gotham. A year or two ago, knowing this would have weirded Kon out, but being best friends and…whatever else with Tim has sort of dulled Kon to most of Tim’s eccentricities.

“I thought it would be _porn!_ ” Kon shoots back, exasperated and trying to keep his voice down. Clark is out doing Justice League stuff, but when you have the best hearing on the planet, that doesn’t seem to matter too much.

“Well, it’s _kind of_ porn,” Tim points out, unhelpful as ever.

“Yeah, but of people I know. How am I supposed to look at them the same way after this? How am I supposed to look at…you know?” He inhales deeply. “And now I can’t think of the w…orkplace,” he saves quickly, almost blurting out Watchtower, “without thinking about all the weird stuff that they get up to.”

“You’re acting really judgmental about it all, considering who you are and what you do,” Tim says.

“Yeah, well that’s us. It’s not like anyone’s going to be shocked that I like sex.” Kon gestures in the air again. “But them? They go out and kiss babies and stuff. That’s like finding out the pope has a freaky sex cult or that Santa likes to tie up his elves and spank them with candy canes.”

Tim snorts, trying to keep his laughter down. “He’s still a consenting adult, Conner. I’ll admit it’s…not what I imagined was going on up there, but they could be doing worse.” He pauses thoughtfully for a moment, thoughtful. “Can you tell who it is in the pictures? It’s weird that Clark would just have that in his apartment where anyone could find them.”

Kon shrugs. “I wouldn’t say you’d be able to recognize any of them unless you, like, met them in person or something.” He drops his voice a notch or two. “Honestly I’m just really worried about Lois, y’know? How is she going to take this?”

Tim nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I can see how that has to be tearing you up. But I guess there’s really only one thing you can do about it. Tell her.”

Kon sighs and looks away. “I know. It just sucks. There’s no way she’s going to take it well.

-

Lois laughs so loudly that Kon actually has to pull the phone away from his ear. “Oh man, that’s precious, kid,” she finally says when she has the air to breathe.

“I’m serious,” Kon growls out.

“Oh, I know, Conner. And I believe you. Just- I can’t even imagine what finding that out must have been like for you.” She almost chokes, laughing for a few more seconds.

“You’re not mad?” Kon asks as another headache wells up. He sits in the bay window of their apartment, focusing down on them, testing how well his recently-returned telescopic vision is working out rather than let Lois’ derision get to him.

“Mad? No. Bemused that you went through our closet without permission? Definitely. Stop that, by the way. You’re in the house of two investigative reporters. We know how it looks when a place is turned over. Honestly, you gave me a good excuse to get away from some _colleagues_ ,” she snorts at the word, “who I am not drunk enough to deal with right now. But to answer your question, I knew about it already. And so you don’t have Clark blushing all over the place trying to explain it, we have an open relationship. We sleep with whoever we want to, but at the end of the day, I’m with Smallville and he’s with me. Sometimes we bring back souvenirs, which you happened to find.”

That street is looking really interesting right now.

“Look, kid,” Lois sighs, reading the silence. “Don’t think too hard about it. Let it go and think about something else. You just found pictures of your dad or cousin or whatever you think of him as in ways you probably never wanted to see. I’d say you’ve been punished strongly enough. So all the crap you did to annoy me before I left is forgiven, and so is your snooping.”

“Right,” Kon replies, his voice weak.

“And cheer up, kid.” She pauses for a second before getting back on the line. “Listen, I gotta go. Don’t let it bother you. I’ll be back in a few days.”

-

“Christ, Tim.” Kon’s breathing is labored, his voice a barely-contained growl. “You don’t even know what you’re missing out on right now.”

“Describe it,” Tim orders, his voice clipped somewhere between Tim Drake and the voice he uses to command them in the field, knowing full well that it drives Kon up the wall.

“He’s trying to fight me,” Kon says before he licks a stripe up the side of Bart’s neck. The younger boy in turn lets out a helpless little noise and beneath Kon’s grip he can feel him struggle, trying to pull himself up off of Kon’s cock. Bart is straddling him, squirming beneath Kon’s firm grip to gain some sort of leverage. The struggle causes shocks of pleasure nearly as good as when the other boy plays dirty and tries to vibrate his way into forcing Kon into orgasm. “I’ve got to say, Tim, it’s harder when I’m not at full strength.”

“Is it a problem?” His voice is still clipped, but Kon’s gotten to know too well. He can hear the edge of concern in his voice. Kon shakes his head before remembering Tim can’t actually see what’s going on right now.

“It’s fine,” he reassures him while pulling Bart up and then forcing him back down with a harsh _smack_ that’s sure to leave a bruise on Bart.

“ _Please_ , Tim!” Bart calls out.

“What do beggars get again, Conner?” Kon grins and leans forward, stopping Bart’s movements entirely. His mouth latches onto one of Bart’s nipples and he sucks until Bart’s nearly screaming’ his hands curled tightly into Kon’s hair and Kon can tell the boy’s torn between trying to pull him off and pushing him forward until there isn’t any space at all between them.

It’s their game. Tim’s never really been interested in casual sex beyond a few people, Kon being one of the very few, but early on Kon had discovered he’d had a kink for watching, or listening, or Kon telling him about what he’d done with other people. At first Kon thought it was some sort of humiliation thing, but soon enough Tim stopped being a spectator and it wasn’t long before he realized what it is that Tim gets out of this.

He likes the control. Even if it’s after the fact, Kon’s found himself more often than not arranging things in a way that Tim would approve. It’s a bit of a mindfuck, but something that Kon’s found doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.

Bart’s one of Tim’s favorite pet projects. Tim’s never laid a hand on him beyond a kiss or a massaging hand when Bart’s been particularly good. But even with Bart’s self-control much better these days, he’s still a wildfire in bed. Kon learned this after the first few times in bed with the boy, and yeah, _hot_ , Tim made the discovery after Bart agreed to Tim’s little kink that the kid’s more out of control when he’s trying to follow orders.

It’s always a valiant attempt at first. Bart loves rising to challenges, but he can never hold on for long. And that’s when Tim takes over, telling Kon what he needs to do to prolong the pleasure, and it becomes less about Tim directing the scene and more about Tim fucking Bart _through_ Kon.

Bart doesn’t just give up, either. For instance, right now Bart tries taking advantage of Kon’s preoccupied state by letting one of his hands drop between them. He grips his own leaking cock and starts a rapid pace. Kon smirks. In the next instant Bart’s grip flies open and his arm jerks up like he’s answering a question in class.

“Kon!” he whines, trying to fight the strength behind the TTK holding the arm in place, straining, and Kon almost feels sorry for him. He rolls his hips slowly in apology, causing a choked sob.

“Is he trying to get off again?” Tim asks.

“Yup.” Redoubling his strength to keep him from being able to move, Kon runs a gentling hand along Bart’s side and slowly allows the hand in the air down to settle on Kon’s shoulder. “It’s been almost an hour, now. He hasn’t even vibrated.”

“It has. I’m actually impressed he’s lasted this long,” Tim admits over the phone. “What do you think?”

Kon looks at the boy in his lap, struggling with labored breath as invisible hands glide over the soft planes of his skin. “I think it’s time, Timmy.”

“Then let him come.” Bart’s head snaps to attention and looks Kon in the eyes, expression desperate. Kon takes his hands off of the boys hips and retracts the TTK wandering lazily over his body, and that’s all it takes. All Kon registers is a loud BANG and he’s laid across the couch with Bart straddling him still, and then he’s nearly blinded by a threshold of pleasure-pain that Kon’s learned to attribute to a speedster on the edge.

Bart’s slamming himself down on Kon’s cock almost faster than he can manage to track. The only noise in the apartment now is the slapping of flesh on flesh and the quickly increased sounds of their mounting pleasure. It’s almost involuntary when Kon starts thrusting up, controlling himself only insofar that he won’t cause any damage to Bart or knock him off but it’s more than enough, lost in the feeling and before he knows it, Kon’s groaning deeply, coming inside Bart.

Bart doesn’t even seem to take heed of Kon’s own orgasm, continuing even when as Kon becomes overly sensitive. He tries pulling out but every attempt is met with a sharp sting to his hands, Bart slapping him hard enough to let him know _he’s_ in control now. Thankfully it doesn’t last too much longer. As quickly as he started, Bart stops, seemingly locked up over Kon. In the next instant, he comes in long spurts, streaking over Kon’s chest as Bart jerks with strangled cries. Eventually he calms and slumps forward onto Kon’s chest.

They lay still for a time, Kon carding a hand through Bart’s hair as Tim showers praise on them that neither of them are coherent enough to understand beyond the fact that Tim’s dropped the impersonal tone and is encouraging, reverent even. It’s enough that Kon feels good about himself.

Eventually they both come back down to Earth, the bliss that both of them are in by Bart’s snickering. “’What do beggars get,’ eh, Tim?”

“Shut up,” Tim’s voice calls out, suddenly sheepish over the phone and Kon smiles. “It felt right at the time.” Kon shifts and pulls out of Bart slowly. He hisses slightly at the sensation, frowning at the drying mess on his body and Bart shrugs apologetically. “Are you feeling any better, now?”

Kon clears his throat, looking away from Bart and where the phone is laid out on speaker. “Yeah.”

“Conner.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Kon reasserts and gets up, nearly toppling over with a yelp.

“ _Kon_.” Robin edges in at the end of the syllable and Kon twitches.

“It was great. _Really,_ ” Kon gestures at Bart with a small smile and Bart waves back, zipping through the apartment and returning with a wet towel for Kon who takes it gratefully and starts to wipe himself clean. “But now that it’s over, my head’s exactly where it was before, you know?”

After the initial revulsion at discovering the depths of Clark’s sex life, new possibilities opened up in Kon’s mind. Last night had been particularly painful. It was unnecessarily awkward, and this time it was entirely because of Kon. Everything started taking a double meaning. Things that Clark would say which would make Kon choke and snap a rowdy joke were cause for suspect. He watched the man’s hands and strong build and began thinking about how it would feel holding Kon down, driving him into the same bed Clark fucked Lois and who knows who else in?

After Clark had left for work that morning and Tim was ensconced in his office, the latter arranged the session with Bart today. The idea was that maybe having sex would take his mind off of things. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Kon wouldn’t turn this down, like, _ever_. But in the end, his thoughts are back on Clark and nothing’s really changed.

“The hypothesis was sound,” Bart points out as he moves around the room with a wobble in his step and Kon smirks. _He_ did that. “I think the variable needs to be changed, though.”

“What?” Kon blinks.

“He’s saying you slept with the wrong person,” Tim points out, and Kon frowns at the tired note in his voice.

Bart nods as he slips back into his underwear. “It’s obvious. I mean, you’re having sexy dreams about Superman, right?” Kon cringes and tries to get Bart to shut his mouth. The boy remains oblivious. “I’m not Superman. I’m not even close to Superman. I’m the wrong age, wrong build, and have the wrong power set.”

“There really aren’t that many people that can fit the bill,” Kon points out. “What am I supposed to do, go up to Captain Marvel or Black Adam? ‘Hey, I have the hots for the dude I was cloned from. You look vaguely like him. Wanna bang?’” He rolls his eyes.

“Isn’t that how you flirt to begin with?” Bart points out and laughs when Kon tries to bean him with the towel, catching it easily. “Or, you can go the distance and actually try and get with Superman. He wouldn’t be opposed to it from what you’ve said.”

“ _Bart_ ,” Kon warns as Tim says, “That might not be a good idea.”

Kon starts and looks at the phone then back at Bart, who only shrugs at his silent question. “That was pretty quick.” Not that Kon disagrees, but it’s weird to have Tim voice his opinion on a potential conquest.

“I just don’t think risking your relationship with Clark is worth the hassle,” Tim points out. “Even if you don’t see him every day after this, it won’t be long until you guys are forced to be around each other. It’s too much to lose over what, thirty minutes to an hour of feeling good? Lust passes quickly. Bad decisions don’t.”

Bart looks thoughtful as he processes the notion before nodding, pulling the rest of his clothes back on. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Just let it go. Not really much you can do about it, anyway.” Kon nods his agreement and gets up to try and find his own clothing. “But,” Bart adds. “The Captain Marvel idea might not be that bad."

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to just be hot monkey sex between Kal and Kon but this fic took a mind of its own. For those who requested, I hope you like it regardless! For those of you who didn't, I hope you like it, too. Next chapter should be ready tomorrow.


End file.
